


Don't Wake the Neighbors

by beingfrozen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mostly Smut, Tumblr Prompt, just a smutlet really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingfrozen/pseuds/beingfrozen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the tumblr post by halesparkles: There should be a fic where Derek is surprised to discover Stiles is super quiet when he comes, years of living with a light sleeper for a dad right next door, and works super hard to get Stiles to make noises because it’s like his favourite thing ever, to hear Stiles make noise in any way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Wake the Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stilinskisparkles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisparkles/gifts).



> It's short and sweet and I just didn't feel like posting it on tumblr. Hope it does the prompt justice!  
> The prompt is from halesparkles (stilinskisparkles on AO3) -> http://halesparkles.tumblr.com/  
> I am -> http://beingfrozen.tumblr.com/

The first time it happens Derek watches in enamored fascination as Stiles, head thrown back in ecstasy with eyes wide open, comes all over Derek’s hand.  It’s exactly what he always imagined, but he just expected more… _noise_.  Stiles never shuts up during the best of times, and Derek had expected – when he had artfully unbuttoned Stiles’ fly and shoved his hand down the front of his pants – that Stiles would be as loud during sex as he was during…well, the rest of his life.  Not that this counted as sex, more like a quick hand job brought on after months of pent up frustration.  But Derek had been absolutely certain that when he finally started rhythmically stroking Stiles’ cock that the younger man would begin spewing moans and curses and breathy phrases like it was his job (and it Derek’s mind, it should be).  Actually, it had started to become a turn-on for Derek, imagining the noises that he could elicit from Stiles with nothing but his tongue and calloused hands.

But the reality was far from it.  Stiles was frustratingly silent, and if it weren’t for the constant bucking of his hips and the frantic whispers of ‘more’ and ‘please, don’t stop’ every time Derek slowed, he would think that Stiles hadn’t even been that interested.  When he came his mouth was limply open, and instead of crying out it orgasmic bliss he only gasped in a quiet and shaky breath.  It was mystifying to Derek, but he figures it’s just a one-time thing.

Only it happens again the next week when Stiles has his fingers clenched in Derek’s hair and Derek’s tongue is moving along Stiles’ length with long lazy strokes.  Stiles barely manages to whisper Derek’s name softly, and that’s all the warning Derek gets before Stiles back is arching off the bed as he comes.  Derek strains to hear the moans of pleasure that he expects from Stiles’ mouth, but no noise is heard.  Stiles’ muscles are tight, his toes curled, one hand clinging painfully to Derek’s hair and the other thrown to the side and clenched in the sheets.  It’s one of the most erotic things that Derek’s ever _seen_ …but Stiles doesn’t make a sound.

A few weeks later – frustratingly, silent-during-sex weeks later – Derek mentions it after he pulls out of Stiles and lays down next to him, hands mindlessly wandering over the younger man’s body.  Stiles lets out a short breathy laugh.

“Dude, I haven’t exactly been shacking up with that many people over the course of my life.”

“Good.  But why does that matter?”

“Cause, it means I had to take matters into my own hands.  Like… _literally_.  And my Dad might not have werewolf hearing but he’s not deaf.  There’s only so much a father and son can share with one another about what’s going on behind closed doors.”

“So what?  We’re at my apartment, your Dad’s not here.”

“I know, thank god. He’d probably shoot you –OW.  No need to hit, spoilsport, it wouldn’t even hurt you! Geesh.  I’m just saying, I’m used to being quiet when I go about my business.”

This is a wonderful revelation.  Once Derek realizes that Stiles _can_ be loud, he makes it his mission to make Stiles scream.  To make him moan. To make him gasp and cry out and shout Derek’s name as he comes. 

He starts by letting his own voice be heard, letting Stiles know that it’s okay to make noise.  He moans openly when he feels Stiles’ fingers slide inside him, breathes out a loud ‘Yes _there_ ’ whenever Stiles hits just the right spot.

He leads by example, all the while plotting, trying to find all the places to touch and mouth over that make Stiles squirm, that make his breath hitch.  And then he attacks, going for those spots with his fingers and teeth and tongue, trying to overload Stiles with so much pleasure that the he can’t reign in his voice.

It slowly starts to work, but Derek doesn’t see the real progress until he starts making Stiles _beg_. 

The first time he tries the new tactic he’s hesitant.  He’s got Stiles’ hands pinned above his head, and Derek is gently kissing along his throat, body hovering over him but not touching.  Stiles is painfully hard, and Derek too for that matter, but Derek has always been patient.  Stiles, not so much.  And Derek isn’t above using that to get what he wants.

“Tell me where to touch you.” He commands, a whisper in Stiles’ ear, but it comes out almost as a question.  Stiles lets out a small whine, but is silent otherwise.  Derek keeps his body close enough that Stiles can feel his heat, but there’s no contact.  Every move is a tease.

“You need to tell me what you want, Stiles,” Derek says, braver this time, “Where should I touch you?” He enunciates every word.  Stiles hips buck up, trying to reach for anything but finding nothing.  Derek ghosts a laugh onto Stiles’ skin.

“You won’t get what you want that way,” he scolds, bringing his head down to kiss his way teasingly across Stiles’ chest, then back up to his neck.  He brings his mouth to let his lips ghost over Stiles’ ear as he speaks, “What do you want, Stiles?”

Stiles whole body shudders.

“Please, Derek, god, just touch me, please, I can’t…”

His voice is a whine, breathy and begging and Derek nearly comes just from hearing it.  But he holds himself together somehow and, grasping both of Stiles wrist with one hand, reaches down with the other to finally grasp Stiles’ length.  When Stiles comes it’s with a small whisper of ‘Oh, god’, and that’s what finally tips Derek over the edge as well.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.  Derek doesn’t consider his mission complete until a few months later when Stiles literally screams Derek’s name in the dead of night.  A neighbor leaves a written complaint on his door about the noise.  Derek puts it on the fridge.


End file.
